Bad Day

Wikipedia entry for Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst.



Plot (quoted from wikipedia)

From the moment he wakes up with gum in his hair, things just do not go Alexander's way. At breakfast, Alexander's brothers Nick and Anthony reach into their cereal boxes and pull out amazing prizes, while all Alexander ends up with is . . . cereal. His teacher doesn't like his drawing of an invisible castle, there is no dessert in his lunch, the dentist tells him he has a cavity, there is kissing on TV, and he has to wear his railroad train pajamas (he hates his railroad train pajamas). No wonder Alexander wants to move to Australia![1] The book ends with his mother's assurance that everyone has bad days, even people who live in Australia.


Yesterday was a bad day. It started out pretty good. My kids let me sleep in (i.e., get them breakfast and then I got to go back to sleep. Ah, the joys of self-sufficient three year olds).

I won't go into the gory details, but it was just a perfect storm of a day. This morning, in the shower at 4:30 (because my password expired so I couldn't set up my test from home) I realized - you know what? Everything that happened yesterday? It didn't have to be that way. I didn't have to flip out like that...to take things so seriously. To jump to a conclusion (the world is ending) like I did. Remember the whole concept that we can choose our attitude towards something? I think I forgot about that.

Sometimes bad days just seem better when fully embraced - as soon as you realize you're having a bad day it just makes life easier.

Anyway - if you're not familiar with this book by Judith Viorst, it rocks. We read it when I was younger, and I still love it. This is what I think of when I think of bad days - even today. Some days are like that.

To not do for other adults what they can do for themselves

It sounds like a pretty simple concept. In fact, this is actually quite complicated. And something I've been working on. I was placed into a mother type role when I was fairly young for various reasons. There were some times when if I didn't do something, it didn't get done. I still have some anger and resentment over some of this, but I'm really working on it. I also partially mention it to explain, this happened - and it's part of why I am the way that I am.

So, from a young age, I became used to taking care of other people and picking up the slack. Sometimes there was a lot of slack. These habits are difficult to unlearn.

As one could imagine, there are an awful lot of people around who want me (or others) to take care of them, to make decisions so that they don't have to face the consequences. Or, because someone else has always done something for them, they don't
realize the coordination it takes to get done. When you read some early feminist writing, I've read about women who want(ed) a "wife" - someone who would take care of all their needs (food, laundry, etc.) so they can spend full time researching, writing or studying. So these types of cultural notions don't magically appear in a vacuum.

Of course there are people every day who give selflessly - who help adults who are not able to help themselves for reasons of mental or physical impairment. And I'm not a fan of parents who throw their child out on their ear the day after they turn eighteen. Being a mom myself, I know that I have two people who are completely dependent on me. Some of that dependence will be for the rest of my life - but what life looked like when they were three months old is vastly different than when they're in their thirties.

But it's a balance and a process - one I've spoken about here before. The more I read, study and meditate, the more I see where I have occasionally overstepped my bounds. Where I've tried to take on someone else's responsibility for their own person. Where my interference (potentially well-meaning) was not needed or welcome.

Often, I justified myself by not wanting to hear that person complain. You might think I'm kidding, but I'm not. In the past, if someone was complaining and there was something I could do about it (even if they had ended up in the situation by their own doing) it would drive me nuts. I had white knight syndrome of sorts. I'm out to save the world. And sometimes it was to save me clean up work - to save doing something at the last minute.

That's not to say that I have things I'm good at and other people have things they are good at. Figuring out dates and scheduling appointments? I'm pretty good at that. Figuring out a quick response to the salesman at the gym or a tactful way to save face - no, not so good at that. So I definitely need other people (adults) help and assistance each day.

But there is a point where I realize I need to back off and chill.

Smiling all the time

I've mentioned before that I studied in Russia for three months back in the 90s. It was an amazing experience and eye-opening for many reasons.

My host family didn't have a car, and the public transportation was good (if not reliable. So I was able to observe quite a bit.

As college students, we were told that Russians generally thought Americans smiled too much. They told us it seemed that Americans smiled all the time. That in Russian culture, smiles were generally reserved for good friends, for times you were genuinely happy.

One day, I remember seeing a babushka (an older woman) walkng down the street crying, tears rolling down her cheeks. She didn't appear homeless or unkempt. I couldn't tell if she was in physical pain, or perhaps had lost a loved one recently. Perhaps she was thinking about loved ones she had lost during World War II and Stalin's purges. I was only looking out the window from the tram - and we quickly passed. (This is not the woman, this is only a photo of a random woman from that time).




What struck me was the incredible difference in our cultures. I can't imagine a person in American culture walking down the street openly crying (not homeless). And no one noticing. And no one stopping that person to ask if they could help or what was wrong. A person was given their space. And they also didn't have act happy or put on some sort of false face.

Because, let's face it, that was/is a country with separatist regions. Where many people (especially older people) are desperately poor and also probably hungry.

That's not to say that I didn't observe tremendous social pressure in Russia, or kindness and caring. Just that the attitude towards pain and suffering was very different.

It does seem a little ridiculous in our culture that we're supposed to hold it together no matter what. In the pilot of "Six Feet Under", the oldest brother Nate laments the stuffy/hidden nature of most American mourning. If a widow or other relative breaks down during a funeral, they're taken to another room to be comforted. Because that brash, intense display of sorrow might be too much for the family and friends. It wouldn't be dignified.

We are social creatures and creatures of habit. Sometimes it's nice to have someone share a smile, pat you on the back and say "we're here for you". Or "we're thinking/praying for you".

I say, there are some things that it takes time to bounce back from. Some that we'll never get over. I'm not about to tell people how to feel - but I will say - it's okay to mourn. To have a bad day. To have a bad week, month or even year. It's okay to not be perky all the time.

Below are two additional photos I took at the time, the first of a home/business.



This is some trash that was in the hallway the entire time I studied at the university. Although, I have to say, I just emptied some file folders at my work that had been sitting there for 5 years, with the dust to prove it. So things do have a way of sitting around, no matter which continent you are on.

Love that snow

One of the best parts of living with three year olds is the immense joy they have in just about everything. Going to the store? Yay!! Grandma and Grandpa are coming over? Yay!!

I've mentioned this before about laundry and going to school- and as many things that change between the ages of two and three - this is one of the things that has not changed. My kids are still as upbeat and enthusiastic as ever.

As with most of the country, it's cold and there is a ton of snow and ice everywhere. For adults, winter storms strike fear in their hearts. Particularly for older people who worry about falling on the ice. Others dread shoveling snow. I've mentioned this attitude before, in December no less - here. It has taken me three hours to drive home from work before (a 20 minute drive). It's no fun.

But my two - they love this weather. They love the snow pants, boots and mittens. Last night as we were going to the gym - they ran around on the snow and ice. They try to taste the snow. They love the crunching sound their boots make. They even seem to be fascinated watching me scrape the ice from the windshield.

Living with little ones - it's easier to not be so jaded. It's nice to be constantly reminded that a negative outlook is not the only perspective.

Expectations

I struggle sometimes with disappointment in some of my relationships. I've been learning to either adjust my expectations - or communicate clearly what I need. In many situations, it's a difficult balance. I also struggle with what's appropriate - and where my responsibility lies in a situation. This should be nothing new to anyone who reads this blog regularly.

I've found a couple of tips that have helped me greatly.

Did I ask for help? Did I state my expectations clearly up front?

Am I expecting too much from a person who is dealing with their own stuff? Who isn't capable of looking beyond where they are at? Was I moving forward with a plan that no one else was interested in following? (This is also something I'm often guilty of).

Usually, in the process of asking all these questions, I find the answer. I find what path I need to take. I realize that I am responsible or that I need to find other avenues to spend my energy on. Maybe it is a matter of having picture disease.

Part of any relationship is understanding your part in it.

This is the conversation I want to have with some of the people in my life. I want to say "we're in this together - until we're not. It's not just me here in this relationship". And people sometimes respond with genuine anger, hurt and frustration. But aerin, you always do x. Or you should do x.

I remember reading some time ago about a woman who suffered from OCD. She finally went into treatment - but her husband and children sometimes would ask her - Mom, why don't you pick up my clothes off the floor anymore? Why don't you organize the cans in the cabinet anymore so we can find what we need?

It's a cliche to say we get what we put into things (and we reap what we sow) - but I firmly believe that.

Sometimes we give a lot and get nothing in return. And that's okay. It can be a good thing. I have been the recipient of lots of giving where I wasn't able to show appreciation or give back.

But when it's a pattern - and one person may be always giving, and then they step away - maybe it's time to reassess. Perhaps the relationship wasn't healthy - or perhaps life happened (as it often does). It's not always about any one person.

Not surprisingly, most of the adults in my life do realize this. I am continuously amazed and appreciate when people respect and understand these concepts. I suppose I just get frustrated when there are others in my life that don't get this.

Maybe it's time for some personal introspection - or time to remember we're all adults here. Communication and relationships are a two way street.

Attitude

There are different definitions of maturity. For me, I believe that a sign of maturity is taking responsibility for your own part in what happens. I talked a little bit about this here.

So much depends upon our attitude. It's easy to get caught up in feeling resentful. In feeling like life owes us something. In blaming everyone else for problems.

At times there are legitimate concerns that need to be met. Legitimate wrongs that have occurred and that need to be addressed.

In my opinion, part of being a mature adult is recognizing just how much we are responsible for where we are at, by our own choices. I chose to go to a small liberal arts college. I chose to major in history. I chose to settle in the current place that I live.

No one held my feet to the fire. I might not have had all the information I would have liked when I made those choices, but I have to stand by them.

So there was a lot in my life that I haven't had control over, but there are parts of my life that I have had control over. I need to acknowledge my part in the grand scheme of things. And, just as important, that people are doing the best they can. Sometimes they're not, but often they are. Acknowledging that just as their hands are sometimes tied, mine are as well.

This last weekend, there was a system upgrade at my company. They asked for volunteers to check out the upgrade. I volunteered (for various reasons). Things are working well for me. Other people's systems are not working well. I overheard someone kvetching about the amount of testing that happened. So, granted, they should have tested more. But, you also had the opportunity to volunteer, and you chose not to.

Sometimes people just like to vent and complain. I certainly do!

But there comes a point where you have to let some of that go. My life is an amazing gift - every day is a new day for me. I can choose my attitude to whatever hurdles I might face. When I focus on how doors were closed for me, I can't focus on all things I'm grateful for, on all the opportunities I do have.